"Do you know her, sir?" asked the woman, eagerly. "Are you one of her
friends?"
"Yes," said Kirke, without hesitation.
"It's not my fault, sir," pleaded the woman, shirking under the look
he fixed on her. "I would have waited patiently till her friends found
her--I would, indeed!"
Kirke made no reply. He turned, and spoke to the cabman.
"Go out," he said, "and close the door after you. I'll send you down
your money directly. What room in the house did you take her from,
when you brought her here?" he resumed, addressing himself to the woman
again.
"The first floor back, sir."
"Show me the way to it."
He stooped, and lifted Magdalen in his arms. Her head rested gently on
the sailor's breast; her eyes looked up wonderingly into the sailor's
face. She smiled, and whispered to him vacantly. Her mind had wandered
back to old days at home; and her few broken words showed that she
fancied herself a child again in her father's arms. "Poor papa!" she
said, softly. "Why do you look so sorry? Poor papa!"
The woman led the way into the back room on the first floor. It was very
small; it was miserably furnished. But the little bed was clean, and the
few things in the room were neatly kept.
Pages:
1126
1127
1128
1129
1130
1131
1132
1133
1134
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149
1150